


Baby Don't Cut

by elsalovelove



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Angst, Based on a song, Blood, Blood and Injury, Bullying, Cutting, Depression, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, High School, M/M, Pain, Please Don't Hate Me, Self-Harm, Self-Harming Dan, Suicide, graphic description of self harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 08:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13713666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elsalovelove/pseuds/elsalovelove
Summary: He made Phil cry.“Why, why, why, why,” Phil muttered, his voice shaking badly, holding Dan’s scarred arm. “Please, Dan, why.”He felt numb. He couldn’t feel anything, see anything, hear anything.“I need,” he began unsteadily. “I need to take control of the pain.”





	Baby Don't Cut

**Author's Note:**

> TRIGGER WARNING!: Self Harm(cutting), Suicide(very graphic) Depression, Grief, Death, Bullying, etc.  
> This fic can be so triggering and dangerous for so many people. Please be safe!
> 
> Suicide, self-harm, and bullying is a very serious issue. Please seek help if you are in a dangerous situation!

He was only seventeen.

 

17.

 

His whole life was ahead of him.

 

Just waiting.

 

He was not sure if he wanted to endure all this to find out what it holds.

 

Surely, it couldn’t be that special, to be so beautiful that he would want to go through all this shit.

 

“Watch where your going,” snarled a jock as Dan bumped into him, lost in his mind. “Faggot.”

 

Dan bit his lips and ignored him, earning a rough slap on his back. 

 

That was his typical day. Go to school, feel like shit, be treated like shit, feel like shit again, get out of the shitty school, meet his boyfriend, and feel less shit. At least he had someone to make him feel less shit.

 

He blinked as he was shaken from his thoughts by something hitting the back of his head. He didn’t have time to register what it was before the sense of something cold dripping down his back confirmed that it was a milk carton.

 

He couldn’t stop the trembling. It had nothing to do with the fact that he was drenched in ice-cold milk. 

 

The kids were laughing. Haha. Wasn’t it so funny that he was just hit with a fucking milk carton? 

 

Dan wanted to scream. He wanted to fuck everything and everyone up. 

 

Letting out a harsh breath, he caught the teacher’s eyes. They pitied him, he could see. 

 

Without saying anything, he quickly stood up, grabbed his bag, and ran to the bathroom. Nobody called after him. Just the echoing screams of the laughing students.

 

He crashed into the stall at the far back, unable to stop trembling and slight whimpering. He felt so exposed, with the thin shirt sticking to his torso, showing how fat he was. 

 

He felt fucking helpless.

 

His breathing didn’t slow down. 

 

With trembling hands, he reached for the side pocket of his bag, unzipping it and pulling out a razor blade.

 

He was soon reassured by the sensation of his own hot blood running down his forearm.

 

 

*

 

 

“Dan, why —?”

 

He didn’t say anything, just dropped into Phil’s car, dripping milk all over the place. “I’m sorry, Phil.”

 

“Shh, shh,” Phil cooed. “It’s fine.”

 

He didn’t want to cry in front of Phil. He didn’t want to show how fucked up he was to the only person he loved. Dan kept quiet the whole ride to Phil’s house, feeling more like shit than ever before.

 

He could feel Phil’s gaze on him. 

 

Everyone fucking pitied him. He hated it. He wanted to be someone amazing that people always smiled when they saw him. He wanted to be the ray of sunshine like Phil.

 

A tear slipped down.

 

 

*

 

 

Everything was quiet. 

 

At least, his mind was quiet for once.

 

They were laying, kissing, in Phil’s bed, Dan having changed into cleaner clothes. 

 

When he was like this with Phil, he could come down from the high mountain where he couldn’t do anything or feel anything.

 

He finally pulled back from the heated kiss to take in a breath, melting into Phil’s hands as Phil cupped his face.

 

_So beautiful,_ he thought. Phil’s face illuminated by the moonlight was the most beautiful imagery in the world, he was sure. 

 

Almost too beautiful. Too much for Dan to believe that this man would actually fall for someone like him.

 

His relationship with Phil was always bittersweet on his side. Phil was so kind to him, so understanding, and so loving, but he knew that he didn’t deserve any of this. He always knew that Phil was the center of his world, he wasn’t the center of Phil’s.

 

But tonight, he wanted to be selfish and ignore the knowledge that Phil deserved someone better. He wanted to touch and feel everything about Phil.

 

He reached forward to tuck back a strand of Phil’s hair when his sleeves fell back.

 

Silence.

 

“Dan.”

 

He flinched back as if he’d been burned, shoving his arms under the pillow. He didn’t want to see Phil’s horrified, disgusted, and maybe even sad face.

 

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to take it.

 

Gentle arms tugged on his arm under the pillow, and he gave up trying to resist because if everything was going to hell, they might as well take him down.

 

“Dan.”

 

Phil’s voice trembled, and he lifted his dull eyes to meet Phil’s eyes. Phil was crying.

 

He made Phil cry.

 

“Why, why, why, why,” Phil muttered, his voice shaking badly, holding Dan’s scarred arm. “Please, Dan, why.”

 

He felt numb. He couldn’t feel anything, see anything, hear anything. 

 

“I need,” he began unsteadily. “I need to take control of the pain.”

 

He knew that Phil wouldn’t understand. Phil was shaking slightly now, his eyes fixed on the red lines on Dan’s arm. Five bold lines.

 

_It’s not even that much,_ he thought dimly, watching Phil’s large eyes scan his arm. _It’s only five cuts. It wasn’t enough, but I didn’t want you to find out tonight._

 

“Please don’t.” Phil didn’t seem to be able to form a complete sentence, shocked by the new discovery. “Don’t — don’t — Jesus, don’t cut Dan.”

 

“I can’t hang on that way,” he replied in a dull voice. Everything was dimmed. Black ate his vision out, leaving him feeling light-headed. “I need to.”

 

“How long?”

 

“A while. Guess I don’t have much luck,” he laughed harshly.

 

“Don’t cut,” said Phil, firmly this time, finally looking up from his arm. Dan was entranced in the moonlit eyes of Phil. They really were magical. “Promise me, Dan. Talk to me, not cut yourself.”

 

“I won’t,” he agreed, not sure what he was even promising. 

 

He was pulled into a tight embrace.

 

 

*

 

 

 

It was one of the good days.

 

Phil had drove him to school, given him a peck on the lips, ruffled his hair, and promised to pick him up after. 

 

He’d smiled.

 

As Dan walked down the corridor, dragging his body to the classroom, his phone buzzed, its screen illuminated by a text from Phil.

 

**Have a good day, bear ^_^**

 

He smiled at the screen. Phil and his fucking emojis.

 

He types out a quick response to which Phil replies with a kissy face, making him smile again.

 

Once he’d reached the devilish classroom door, he sighed and tucked his phone back into his pocket, bracing himself for another harsh day.

 

Sliding the door open, he kept his eyes down, staring at his shoes, avoiding any eye contact.

 

Dan could feel every pair of eyes staring at him, either at amusement or pity. He fucking hated it.

 

He could feel his face heating up, and he bit his lips, when his feet suddenly tripped over some stupid shit that had definitely been set up by one of the bullies. He landed on the wooden ground hard, his ribcage poked by the textbooks he’d been carrying, Books flied everywhere, and he was out of breath.

 

Everything was distant. Everything was numb.

 

But he could still here the laughing, could still see the pointing fingers.

 

 

*

 

 

He couldn’t take it anymore.

 

After the first class, he slid out of the classroom, pulled out his phone, and texted Phil. His hands shook as he typed out the letters.

 

**I love you with my body, heart, and soul to death, Phil Lester.**

 

He didn’t wait for the reply. Putting on his coat and swinging his bag over his shoulder, he ran to his house, dropping his phone on the concrete as he cried.

 

Crashing into the door, he tumbled into the bathroom and pulled out the blade. Blood was still splashed on the side from yesterday’s use.

 

_I can’t break the promise this soon,_ he thought dimly through the chaos of his running thoughts. _I promised him._

 

_Do you really think he would care?_ _You’re just an inconvenience._

 

_Listen._

 

_You’re a burden to him._

 

He couldn’t control his breathing. He was fucking drowning in his mind, and he could hear children laughing outside.

 

_The world’s really fucked up, isn’t it?_

 

One cut. 

 

It was so much deeper than he’d ever made before. Blood gushed out of the long slit, dripping onto the bathtub. 

 

Two cuts.

 

He shrieked as the blade made another gash, his breathing becoming even more erratic. 

 

Three cuts.

 

He literally couldn’t hold on anymore. He whimpered from the pain, both internal and external, thinking only about Phil.

 

Another.

 

And another.

 

Yet another.

 

 

*

 

 

He hated this feeling. 

 

Something was definitely wrong, Phil could feel it in his guts. Dan always replied to his _‘I love you’_ s. Plus, school definitely couldn’t be over yet.

 

_I’m just checking,_ he told himself as he drove to Dan’s house. _Calm down, you might be overreacting._

 

The front door was open.

 

Phil started breathing fast. 

 

He slowly got out of the car and walked to the doorway. 

 

The sound of running water sent chills up his spine. 

 

Trembling, he ran up to the bathroom where the sound was coming from.

 

The place looked like a fucking murder scene.

 

His breathing was erratic and he couldn’t do anything, he had to do something, he had to yell, he had to cry, but he couldn’t.

 

Blood. Blood everywhere, dripping from the tub to the floor.

 

And Dan was sitting on the floor, leaning on the tub with life being drained out of his arms.

 

“Dan,” he yelled and lurched forward to lean Dan back from the bloody tub. “Bear, please, please…”

 

“Somebody call an ambulance,” he screamed.

 

His vision wouldn’t clear. He couldn’t stop his screaming and begging and crying. He pulled Dan’s limp body onto his lap, cupping Dan’s face that’s drenched in his own blood. “Why, why, why…”

 

Dan’s loose eyelids showed his rolling eyeballs, and Phil’s breathing hitched. His fucking whole world was crashing.

 

Phil could feel himself trembling, both from shock and anger. 

 

Soon the ambulance arrived, and he was pushed to the side while he helplessly watched as Dan was strapped to the stretcher, the gashes on his arms gaping and trickling blood.

 

 

*

 

 

An hour later, the doctor that had been in charge of Dan’s emergency surgery walked over to him.

 

_Dan’s alive, Dan’s alive, Dan’s alive, he’s okay, he’s okay, he’s okay, of course my bear is fucking okay,_ he chanted in his head, trying to make his brain believe the words. _He just have to be more careful from now on. I can protect him._

 

The doctor’s face was sour.

 

“Excuse me, sir, for the words I’m about to say.”

 

He doesn’t want to hear it.

 

But maybe —

 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

 

Phil collapsed down to the floor. His own world, his own bear, is crashing down on him. 

 

Dan  was had been the center of his world.

**Author's Note:**

> Suicide, self-harm, and bullying is a very serious issue. Please seek help if you are in a dangerous situation!
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way implying or stating that Dan had or is self-harming(if he had/is, then I sincerely wish that he finds help and that he receives love from people around him), nor am I stating that Phan (romantic relationship between dan and phil) is real, although I hope it is real(if they are together, I couldn't be happier for them, if not, than I'm happy with what makes them happy). This is a work of fiction, and although I tried my best not to glorify or gloss over self-harm, suicide, or suicidal thoughts, no fiction can truly depict the nature of mental illness or abuse in an entirely authentic and genuine way, so please consider that :)
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by "Baby Don't Cut" by B-Mike.


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